There is a peculiar friction to the digital textures of Skylarka and her new album, “Somnorine”. It’s supposed to be chiptune-influenced synthwave, but listening to it feels less like browsing the internet and more like chewing on aluminum foil while watching Blade Runner on a CRT monitor that’s slowly degaussing. It’s a sensory contradiction bright, crystalline pop hooks wrestling with the deep, existential dread of a consciousness trapped in a fragile shell.
Skylarka, self-described as a “little gremlin having fun online,” pivoted from a sweaty DIY punk and jazz background to the infinite void of streaming after long COVID clipped her touring wings. You can hear that confinement here. This record doesn’t sound like it was made in a studio; it sounds like it was made inside a lucid dream.
Tracks like “Half-Remembered” and “Pallid Moonscape” hit a specific frequency of 3 AM loneliness. The shivering, chime-like tones float over lush harmonies, mimicking the smell of ozone right before a summer storm breaks. It’s a nocturnal drive through a city that only exists in 1988 anime backgrounds. “Cybernetic Fist (Maru Malandra Theme)” and “Amid the Burning Blossoms” layer these nostalgic, rolling basslines with melodies that feel impossibly clean, evoking a yearning for a future that was promised to us on the back of a cereal box but never actually arrived.
But just when you get comfortable in the neon glow, Skylarka disrupts the simulation. “A Man Beyond Death” and “Hero’s Homecoming” introduce a galloping, propulsive rhythm. It’s the adrenaline spike of finding a forgotten ten-dollar bill in a winter coat pocket unexpected, sharp, and vaguely triumphant. The vintage spoken-word samples about returning from the dead add a campy, B-movie texture that suddenly feels deadly serious.
Then, the logic dissolves. “The Witch House” is a jarring pivot into industrial aggression, a mechanical loop that grinds like a stuck gear. It serves as a grim palate cleanser before “Unearthly Vagabond,” an ambient drone piece that sounds the way a headache feels when it finally goes away vast, empty, and heavy.
The record collapses into “Mo(u)rning Lazarus”, a track of beautiful wreckage. Here, the electronic facade cracks, revealing a blown-out, lo-fi noise pop anthem. The vocals sound like they are shouting through a dense fog of static. It is a moment of pure, raw catharsis, the sound of a human spirit refusing to be flattened by the weight of its own nihilism.
If these songs are truly maps of Skylarka’s dreams, then her subconscious is a fascinatingly cluttered room. “Somnorine” leaves you with the distinct impression that while death is inevitable, it might also have a really catchy soundtrack.
